


At the End of the Day

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018: Hurt/Comfort edition [28]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 06:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Their job isn’t an easy one, and some days are harder than others.





	At the End of the Day

It was 3 AM, and the shower was running. Napoleon sat on the couch, listening to the water running. It had been a sleepless night for the both of them, after their last mission—a decidedly somber one, as Napoleon and Illya had been assigned to deal with the aftermath of a THRUSH attack on a small village—there had been no signs of it happening, no chatter that would have alerted them to it, and no way for them to have prevented it.

The carnage had been difficult for both of them to witness, but Illya especially had been forcefully reminded of his boyhood days during the war in Kiev. Upon returning to New York, they didn’t even bother to try to sleep—if it had come, it would have been filled with nightmares, anyway.

Illya had gone in for a shower after arriving home, leaving Napoleon with the cat in the living room. Finally, Illya, now in a bathrobe, his hair still wet, walked in and sat down on the couch beside Napoleon, sighing deeply.

“Didn’t help much, did it?” Napoleon asked.

“No,” Illya said. “How long was I in there for?”

“Hour and a half almost.”

“Mmh. There should be some hot water left, if you want to take one.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” Napoleon said. He passed a hand over his forehead. “I think I’m just too tired to move.”

“Tired… physically?”

“No, not physically—tired of this,” Napoleon said. “But we’ve got to keep at it—we can’t let THRUSH keep getting away with things like this.”

Illya gave him a long look.

“…How can you keep positive in the face of all of this?” he asked, after a while. “We see so much devastation on our missions, and yet, you seem convinced that we are able to improve things.”

“Well, you have to agree we’re keeping things from getting worse. We’re fortunate enough to be in a position that allows us to do that.”

Illya conceded this.

“Even so… Do you not find it draining?”

“Of course I do,” Napoleon said. “It’s incredibly disheartening. Sometimes, even I ask myself what the point of it is.”

“And do you get an answer?”

“Yeah—if not us, then who? I don’t know if I could settle for not doing what I could. And I think you feel the same way—because you wouldn’t have joined U.N.C.L.E. if you were truly cynical that things could never change.”

Without saying a word, Illya silently admitted that Napoleon was right.

“But some days are harder than others,” he concluded.

“Some days are,” Napoleon agreed. “And that’s when we rely on each other to help us through it. Because we’re a great team—you and me.”

He reached out to Illya, who took his hand. Baba Yaga paused and added her paw to their hands.

Despite themselves, they both managed a smile at this.

“…And kitty makes three,” Illya added.

Sleep was out of their grasp tonight, but they would continue on.


End file.
